DEATH AND THE LADY - Arthur Conan Doyle Poems

TURN in, my lord, she said ; As it were the Father of SinI have hated the Father of the Dead, The slayer of my kin ;By the Father of the Living led, Turn in, my lord, turn in.

We were foes of old ; thy touch was cold, But mine is warm as life ;I have struggled and made thee loose thy hold, I have turned aside the knife.Despair itself in me was bold, I have striven, and won the strife.

But that which conquered thee and rose Again to earth descends ;For the last time we have come to blows. And the long combat ends.The worst and secretest of foes, Be now my friend of friends.